UCSB    LiBKAH! 


THE  LOVE  LETTERS  OF  A  LIAR 


THE  LOVE  LETTERS 
OF  A  LIAR 

BY 

MRS.  WILLIAM   ALLEN 


ESS  ESS   PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

(Publishers  of  The  Smart  Set) 

NEW  YORK,    I  135  BROADWAY,  MCMI 


Copyright,  1900,  by 
ESS  ESS  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 


I     DEDICATE    THIS     LITTLE     BOOK 

TO  THE  MEN  WHO   COULDN'T 

WOULDN'T     AND     DIDN'T 

WRITE  THESE  LETTERS 


TO  MY  CRITICS 

''y  BEJSTLT  ambition,  which 
the  gods  grant  thee  i* attain 
to  !  If  thou  luert  the  lion,  the  fox 
would  beguile  thee ;  if  thou  wert  the 
lamb,  the  fox  would  eat  thee  ;  if  thou 
wert  the  fox  y  the  lion  would  suspect 
thee,  when  peradventure  thou  wert 
accused  by  the  ass ;  if  thou  wert  the 
ass,  thy  dulness  would  torment  thee, 
vii 


TO  MT  CRITICS 


and  still  thou  livedst  but  as  a  break- 
fast to  the  wolf:  f  thou  wert  the 
wolf  thy  greediness  would  afflict 
thee^  and  oft  thou  shouldst  hazard 
thy  life  for  thy  dinner :  wert  thou 
the  unicorn^  pride  and  wrath  would 
confound  thee  and  make  thine  own 
self  the  conquest  of  thy  fury ;  wert 
thou  a  bear^  thou  wouldst  be  killed 
by  the  horse:  wert  thou  a  horse ^ 
thou  wouldst  be  seized  by  the  leopard: 
wert  thou  a  leopard^  thou  wert  ger- 
main  to  the  lion  and  the  spots  of  thy 
viii 


TO   Mr  CRITICS 


kindred  were  jurors  on  thy  life :  all 
thy  safety  were  remotion  and  thy  de- 
fence absence.** 

— TiMON  OF  Athens. 


THE   LOVE  LETTERS 
OF  A  LIAR 

V^ew  York,  January  lO,  1899. 

I  THINK  you  will  believe  me 
when  I  tell  you  that  you  have 
filled  my  heart  and  brain  ever 
since  some  *'  good-night  words  '* 
that  you  remember.  You  spoke 
with  a  prophetic  confidence 
when  you  said  you  could  bring 
back  all  my  love  for  you  if  you 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

cared  to  try.  You  have  brought 
it  back,  sweetheart — if,  indeed, 
it  ever  went  away — brought  it 
back  in  such  a  flame  of  color 
and  passion  that  all  other  women 
in  the  world  seem  ghosts  and 
shadows,  as  in  the  old  days. 

Is  it  only  for  an  experiment 
that  you  have  done  this — is  it 
only  to  test  your  power?  If 
this  was  all,  then  you  are  more 
cruel  even  than  you  are  beauti- 
ful, and  I — just  one  more  fool. 

The    quiet   years — the    years 


OF    A    LIAR 

you  wrote  me  of  as  so  easy  and 
humdrum  and  safe — I  think  have 
gone,  and  the  old  wild,  thrilling 
hope  of  boyhood,  which  after  all, 
even  in  the  deepest  shadows, 
never  left  my  heart  entirely — the 
hope  that  in  the  hidden  cham- 
bers of  your  being  your  boy 
sweetheart  was  still  your  best 
and  dearest  —  that  hope  has 
come  back,  and  will  stay  with 
me  until  I  carry  it  down  into  the 
grave.  And  with  it  comes  and 
lingers  a  passionate  longing  to 

5 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

be  with  you  **and  touch  you 
and  breathe  you  and  live.'* 

Five  years,  you  say,  will  come 
and  go  before  opportunity  comes 
again.  And  are  you  content  ? 
God  help  me,  I  am  not  !  It  shall 
not  be,  and  if  you  really  love  me 
it  will  not.  Is  my  whole  life  to 
go  by  with  these  long-separated 
glimpses  into  paradise  and  then 
the  dull  level  of  life's  desert 
sands  for  years  and  years  ?  I 
swear  to  you  before  God,  and  in 
all  reverence  for  Him,  that  I  be- 
4 


OF    A     LIAR 

lieve  if  ever  woman  on  this  earth 
owed  the  gift  of  happiness  to  the 
man  she  loved  you  owe  it  to  me, 
if  you  do  really  love  me.  Some- 
body says,  *'We  love  our  lost 
loves  for  the  love  we  gave  them 
and  not  for  anything  they  gave 
our  love."  Are  you  going  to 
make  that  a  bitter  truth  in  my 
life  forever  and  ever  ?  I  do  not 
want,  heaven  knows,  to  bring 
any  disturbing  influence  into 
your  life — but  oh,  dear,  dear 
sweetheart,  1  do  so  hunger  for 
5 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

happiness!  And  nobody  in  the 
world,  by  fate's  or  God's  or  for- 
tune's inscrutable  chance,  can 
bring  me  the  supreme  happiness 
that  ought  to  crown  every  man's 
life  hut yoti.  You  speak  to  me 
about  other  women.  Never  for 
a  moment  have  you  doubted 
that  you  could  bring  me  across 
the  world  from  any  other  woman ; 
perhaps  it  would  have  been  far 
better  for  me  if  this  had  not  been 
so.  You  know  it — you  have 
always  known  it — but  you  did 


OF    A    LIAR 


not  care  to  call  me.  Now  I  am 
not  a  boy  any  more — I  am  a 
man  with  graying  hair  and  many 
sad  memories  and  most  of  his 
illusions  gone.  And  yet  in  spite 
of  this  I  dream  of  a  happiness 
sweeter  than  heaven,  of  which 
life  still  holds  a  possibility — and 
that  happiness  lies  in  your  sweet 
open  hands,  my  dearest,  and  no 
one  else  in  the  world  can  give  it 
to  me  but  you. 

Now,  what  are  you  going  to 
do?    Are  you  unwilling  to  frice 

7 


THE    LOVE     LETTERS 

this  Storm  that  you  chose  to  re- 
awaken, or  are  you  willing  to 
say:  ''He  has  loved  me  all  his 
life  and  I  love  him  for  that,  if  for 
nothing  else,  and  he  shall  not 
love  me  any  more  in  vain!" 
Will  you  say  that  ? 

I  do  not  know  why  I  have 
dared  to  write  you  this,  except 
that  life  is  slipping  by  and  age 
comes  before  we  know  it.  Some- 
how, when  I  am  with  you  I  can- 
not speak  these  things  that  crowd 
my  heart.  But  if  there  be  any- 
8 


OF     A     LIAR 

thing  in  the  communion  of  spir- 
its, you  must  have  heard  mine 
crying  to  you,  pleading  with 
you,  for  the  love  of  God,  to  give 
me  what  is  mine. 

You  cannot  reply  to  this  with 
any  force  by  referring  to  any 
other  episodes  in  my  life.  As  I 
said  before,  there  has  not  been 
any  time  in  which  you  could  not 
hold  me  and  draw  me  to  you 
and  mould  my  life  as  you  will. 
I  could  have  said,  with  the  old 
dramatist,  and  said  at  any  mo- 

9 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

ment   these   many  years,    with 
some  degree  of  truth : 

Why,  I  hold  fate  clenched  in  my  hand, 
and  could  command  the  course  of  time's 
eternal  motion,  hadst  thou  been  a  thought 
more  constant  tiian  the  ebbing  sea. 

Now,  isn't  there  some  way  for 
me  to  see  you  ?  God  knows  that 
not  even  for  my  own  happiness 
would  I  have  you  run  any  risks 
for  me.  And  let  me  beg  of  you 
right  here — promise  me,  darling 
— that  just  as  soon  as  you  have 
read  this  letter  you  will  destroy 


OF    A     LIAR 

it  and  all  others  of  mine.    Believe 
me,  it  is  the  only  way. 

I  do  not  know  how  you  will 
treat  me  after  this  letter.  I  know 
what  I  hope,  but  I  know,  too, 
how  often  hope  has  failed.  And 
I  have  hidden  so  much  pain  be- 
hind the  smiling  lips  you  call 
weak,  that  if  the  old  lesson  is 
learned  over  again  I  shall  not  find 
any  new  sensation  in  it.  I  have 
lived  too  long — I  am  too  old  to 
drench  a  midnight  pillow  any 
more  with  the  tears  of  vain  re- 
11 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

gret.  But  oh,  sweetheart,  I  do 
long  for  happiness  !  **  So  many 
things  must  conspire  to  bring 
about  a  perfect  opportunity."  1 
write  the  words  from  memory, 
but  they  stay  with  me.  A  perfect 
love,  my  darling,  will  make  a  per- 
fect opportunity ;  and  if  you  love 
me  thus  I  will  "command  the 
course  of  time's  eternal  motion" 
to  hold  you  on  my  heart  again. 
Good-night.  I  am  very  tired 
and  sad,  and  happy,  too.  I  am 
no  coward,  I  swear  it ;  but  yet  I 

12 


OF     A    LIAR 


almost  fear  to  try  to  storm  the 
heights  on  which  all  that  I  love 
in  all  the  world  awaits  my  vic- 
tory. 

Lawrence. 


II 

New  York,  Fehruary  2,  i8gg. 

My  Sweetheart  : 

I  have  read  your  letter  over 
and  over  and  over,  and  now 
that  I  know  it  by  heart,  I  know, 
too,  that  you  are  dearer  to  me 
than  ever  before — if  such  a  thing 
be  possible. 

"  What  do  you  ask  of  me  ?" 
you  say  in  it;  and  I  answer  in 
loyalty  and  perfect  faith,  in  Ten- 
>5 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

nyson's  words,  that  you  will 
"  Lay  your  sweet  hands  in  mine 
and  trust  to  me."  That  is  all — 
that  you  tell  me  you  love  me 
and  trust  me. 

Thrilled  through  as  it  has 
always  been  with  passionate 
longing,  all  my  life  my  love  for 
you  has  been  to  me  a  holy  and 
sacred  thing,  pure  as  the  per- 
fume of  a  flower;  but,  let  me 
say  what  is  true,  stirring  my 
blood  with  the  same  intoxicating 
perfume  that  some  flowers  pos- 
\6 


OF     A     LIAR 

sess.  I  know  you  understand 
me.  I  believe  you  understand 
that  even  if  you  came  when  I 
were  dying  and  bent  over  me, 
and  I  felt  your  tears  on  my  face 
I  should  be  happy  if  you  said : 
**He  gave  me  all  his  life  all  the 
love  he  had  to  give  a  woman, 
and  all  the  passion — and  the 
passion  and  the  love  were  both 
without  a  stain." 

*'  The  gift  of  happiness  ?  "  My 
darling,  you  have  made  me  hap- 
pier than  I  hoped  again  to  be  in 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

my  life.  Not  the  perfect  happi- 
ness that  would  be  mine  on 
earth  if  you  were  all  my  own — 
body,  soul  and  heart  mine  only. 
Fate  or  God  or  chance  or  destiny 
has  made  this  seemingly  now 
impossible — but  because  you 
have  yielded  to  your  woman- 
hood and  owned  you  love  me  ; 
because  you  have  given  me  the 
fulfilment  of  the  hope  that  lived 
through  all  the  desolate  years 
that  some  day  the  sweet  lips 
would  tell  me  so  ;  because  you 
18 


OF    A    LIAR 


have  promised  me  that  my  life 
hereafter  shall  not  be  altogether 
divided  from  yours;  because  of 
these  things  1  hold  in  my  heart 
to-night  the  gift  of  happiness, 
just  as  my  arms  have  held  it  to 
my  heart  to-day. 

You  are  not  afraid  of  your  love 
for  me,  are  you,  sweetheart? 
or  of  mine  for  you  ?  I  some- 
times think  that,  after  all,  know- 
ing only  one  life  as  we  do  and 
nothing  of  that  beyond,  the  heart 
should  know  its  own   happiness 

19 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

as  well  as  its  own  bitterness, 
and  that  love,  when  we  find  it, 
should  be  the  God  who  puts  all 
things  under  Him  and  for  whom 
the  world  is  well  lost.  If  you 
are  mine  and  I  am  yours,  and 
we  are  all  in  all  to  each  other, 
then  what  matters  anything  else  ? 
Love  is  enough !  It  is  a  terribly 
fascinating  thought,  and  there  is 
some  sense  of  strong  rebellion, 
too,  at  fate  that  makes  you  mine 
and  yet  not  wholly  mine.  And 
yet  you  have  not  misjudged  the 


OF     A     LIAR 


man  to  whom  you  said :  *'  I  love 
you."  I  would  rather  go  away 
from  out  your  sight  and  never 
see  you  any  more  than  make  you 
live  ever  to  regret  that  you 
told  me  this.  Such  is  the  love 
I  bear  for  you  to-night,  my  dar- 
ling, with  the  touch  of  your 
hands  still  throbbing  through 
my  pulses,  and  the  perfume  of 
your  lips  still  on  my  own. 

I  think  I  understand  what  it 
has  cost  you  to  tell  me  all  you 
have.    1  believe  I  do  realize  what 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

it  is  for  a  woman  like  you  to 
love.  And  if  1  have  ever  misun- 
derstood you  and  failed  to  com- 
prehend I  shall  try  never  to  do 
so  any  more.  And  I  want  you 
always  to  treat  me  just  as  your 
mood  prompts  you  to  treat  me, 
fondly  or  laughingly  or  mock- 
ingly or  tenderly,  as  best  suits 
you.  1  don't  want  you  ever  to 
be  sorry  in  your  life  for  one  sin- 
gle moment  that  you  have  given 
your  heart  into  my  keeping. 
For  me — 1    hardly   realize    it 


OF     A    LIAR 

yet  ;  I  am  stunned,  almost,  with 
the  joy  of  it,  and  "all  my  nights 
are  trances  and  all  my  days  are 
dreams."  And  yet,  in  spite  of 
all  the  pain  and  grieving  and  the 
bitterness  of  the  old  years,  some- 
how the  hope  that  has  now  been 
realized  never,  1  think,  altogether 
left  me;  and  let  me  say  to  you 
with  truth  that  the  realization 
was  sweeter  than  the  hope  that 
filled  a  thousand  dreams  v/ith 
flame.  I  deny  that  anticipation 
is  better  than  fruition.     I  have 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

felt  more  rapture  crowded  into 
one  brief  hour  this  day  than  in 
ten  years  of  hopes  and  dreams. 
There  is  more  of  joy  for  me  in 
the  soft  pressure  of  your  little 
hands — there  is  more  of  heaven 
in  the  fragrance  of  your  mouth 
than  any  heaven  that  hope  can 
ever  bring. 

I  am  writing  you  straight  from 
my  heart  of  hearts,  and  what  I 
write  I  feel.  Let  us  have  no 
mental  reservations.  We  are 
not  boy  and  girl  any  more,  but 
24 


OF     A     LIAR 

man  and  woman.  If  the  love 
you  bear  for  me  should  ever 
wane — if  mine  should  ever  weary 
you,  if  any  other  should  com.e 
between  us,  I  want  you  to  be 
honest  and  tell  me  so.  Even  if 
it  wrench  my  heart  out  by  the 
roots,  I  do  not  want  to  live  one 
hour  in  a  fool's  paradise.  And, 
sweetheart — my  dear,  dear  love 
— will  you  not  grant  the  request 
that  I  again  make  to  you  to  de- 
stroy my  letters?  I  know  the 
fear  is  remote,  but  so  much  of 
a? 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

peace  might  depend  for  you 
on  their  non-existence,  that 
even  now  I  feel  it  is  almost 
cowardly  for  me  to  write  them. 
Will  you  not  do  this,  my  dar- 
ling, for  my  sake  and  because  I 
ask  you  to  ?  You  will  not  mis- 
understand this  request.  You 
will  know  that  the  heart  that 
honors  while  it  loves  you  holds 
your  safety  and  happiness  above 
everything  else  on  earth. 

Good-night.     It  seems  to  me 
I  could  write  you  thus  forever. 
26 


OF    A    LIAR 

Do  not  write  to  me  unless  and 
until  you  want  to.  I  shall  un- 
derstand. I  shall  see  you,  I  trust, 
in  three  days.  Until  then  my 
life  will  be  a  dream,  and  that 
dream  the  sweetest  woman  in  all 
this  world. 

Lawrence. 


Ill 

Neiv  York,  Fehruary  8,  i8pp. 

Madge  : 

Do  you  know  that  you  have 
written  me  the  most  beautiful 
letter  I  ever  received  in  my  life, 
and  the  most  effective  ? 

I  am  not  ashamed  to  tell  you, 
my  beloved,  that  part  of  it  1  have 
read  through  tears.  It  has  made 
me  happy,  it  has  wrung  my 
heart,  it  has  appealed  to  all  that 
29 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

is  best  and  noblest  in  me,  it  has 
made  me  understand  you  even 
more  tlian  1  ever  did  before,  and 
I  thought  I  knew  you  to  your 
heart's  sweet  core,  my  love  ! 
What  has  this  letter  done  for 
me  ?  It  has  touched  my  ears 
and  thrilled  my  heart  with  the 
sweetest  music  God  gives  man 
to  hear  on  earth — the  melody  of 
a  true  woman's  love  crying  for 
tenderness  and  protection  against 
itself. 

1  cannot  conceive  of  any  cir- 
30 


OF    A     LIAR 

cumstance  or  any  situation  or 
any  catastrophe  that  would  take 
one  iota  from  the  reverence  and 
respect  I  render  to  your  woman- 
hood along  with  a  passion  so 
deep  and  thrilling  that  I  myself 
do  not  understand  or  compre- 
hend it.  I  knov/  that  1  am  the 
one  love  of  your  life,  as  you  are 
the  only  real  one  of  mine. 

I  believe  that  over  and  beyond 

the  bonds  and   limitations  that 

men  have  made — and  properly 

made,  I  admit — there  is  nothing 

3i 


THE    LOVE     LETTERS 

that  love  like  ours  does  not  sanc- 
tify and  glorify,  and  I  could  take 
you  in  my  arms,  all  mine  and 
wholly  mine,  even  to  the  feet  of 
God,  and  say,  "I  bring  her 
whose  sacrifice  to  love  has  left 
her  in  my  eyes  and  heart  as  sin- 
less as  your  angels,  and  no  pos- 
sible heaven  where  she  is  not 
could  ever  be  anything  but  hell 
for  me." 

I  should  always  feel  the  same 
for  you  forever,  forever.  I  know 
it. 

32 


OF     A     LIAR 

It  has  been  a  part  of  my  life  to 
give  you  my  homage.  It  will  be 
until  my  life  shall  end,  and  yet 
to-night,  after  this  letter  of  yours, 
I  recognize,  perhaps  for  the  first 
time  entirely,  our  fate,  and  I  bow 
to  it. 

Never,  so  help  me  God — and 
I  write  these  words,  as  I  read 
yours,  through  tears,  and  with 
an  entire  realization  of  what  they 
mean — never  will  I  cause  you  any 
anxiety  on  this  subject  knowing- 
ly or  willingly  again.  I  make  the 
33 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

renunciation  to-night  of  the  hope 
I  had  hardly  realized  I  cherished, 
and,  whether  pain  accompanies 
that  renunciation  or  not,  I  am  not 
unhappy,  because  I  know  that 
you  are  mine  in  spirit,  if  not  in 
body;  because  I  believe  that  you 
will  be  changeless,  and  because, 
whether  or  not  on  earth,  you  are 
ever  mine — mine  only.  I  shall 
know  the  white  life  still  is  white. 
I  mean  this,  sweetheart.  It  is 
true  I  am  writing  under  the 
powerful  influence  of  your  tender 
34 


OF     A    LIAR 

and  beautiful  letter.  But  I  have 
thought  it  out  besides,  and  taken 
this  stand  after  hours  and  hours 
of  striving  between  passion  and 
the  desire  to  do  right. 

You  have  said  I  wanted 
strength.  It  must  be  mine  to 
show  you  that  this  is  not  true.  I 
have  it,  and  I  pledge  it  to  you  this 
night,  with  a  great  sob  in  my 
heart. 

Oh,  v/ell,  Madge,  why  should 
the  sob  be  there  ?  Am  I  not  dec- 
orated in  a  way  that  kings  are 
35 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

not?  Have  I  not  what  I  have 
longed  for  all  my  life,  and  should 
I  not  be  content  ? 

1  am  happy  in  your  love,  dear 
— oh !  immeasurably  happy — and 
then  it  is  best,  no  doubt,  that 
something  should  be  held  back 
from  us,  lest  earth  grow  too 
much  like  heaven  and  we  wor- 
ship love  more  than  God. 

You  have  asked  me  whether, 

if  all  our  heart's   desires   could 

have  been  fulfilled  I  could  have 

been  faithful  to  you  all  my  life, 

36 


OF     A    LIAR 

as  long  as  you  lived,  however 
much  divided  from  you?  Yes, 
sweetheart,  I  could.  I  call  on 
your  faith  in  my  truth  and  my 
love  for  you  to  believe  and  to 
know  that.  That  is  all  1  can  say 
now. 

The  test  will  never  be  made — 
at  least,  until  I  can  prove  my 
constancy  to  the  world  as  well  as 
to  you — and  that  time,  perhaps, 
may  never  come.  For  the  pres- 
ent I  have  put  some  "days  and 
dreams  out  of  mind,  days  that 
37 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

are  over,  dreams  that  are  done.'' 
But  i  shall  love  you  all  my  life. 
You  know  it.     There  is  no  poem 
that  I  ever  read,  no  poem  ever 
written,  and  no  song  ever  sung, 
that  could   describe   my  feeling 
for  you,  as  I  know  it.     Perhaps 
some  day  I  may  write  that  song. 
Have  I  answered  your  ques- 
tions, darling.^    I  have  tried,  and 
from  an  honest  and  loyal  heart. 
Your  letter  is  so  sweet  and 
tender  and  passionately  beautiful. 
It  is  the  very  supremest  expres- 
38 


OF     A     LIAR 


sion  of  a  true  love   and   a  true 
womanhood  I  ever  read. 

Good-night,  heart's  dearest; 
good-night,  my  life's  one  love.  I 
never  loved  you  more  than  in 
this  hour. 

Lawrence. 


IV 

New  York,  March  4,  i8()g. 

Darling: 

I  waited  for  the  message,  but 
it  did  not  come,  and  I  feel  that  I 
cannot  sleep  to-night  until  I  have 
spoken  to  you  across  the  silence 
— to  tell  you  how  more  and  more 
each  hour  and  day  you  fill  my 
life.  Does  God  give  love  like 
this  of  mine  for  you  to  many 
men,  I  wonder?  Words  seem 
4' 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

SO  weak,  so  poor,  to  tell  how 
every  word  and  gesture,  how 
every  passionate  and  rapturous 
memory  of  you,  burns  and  throbs 
and  beats  through  my  heart  un- 
til I  feel  I  must  go  mad  for  long- 
ing and  for  joy.  Who  am  I,  to 
be  loved  by  a  woman  like  you 
and  with  such  love  as  you  have 
given  me  ?  You  have  bestowed 
upon  my  life  a  new  purpose — 
you  have  made  it  a  thousand 
times  worth  living — you  have 
made  me  to  believe  and  know 
42 


OF    A    LIAR 

that  human  life  can  reach  a  point 
of  happiness  no  possible  heaven 
could  ever  excel.  That  is  what 
your  love  is  to  me,  sweetheart. 
I  swear  it  to  you — and  knowing 
what  it  means  to  me,  I  think 
you  should  never  regret  a  single 
memory  of  it.  I  do  not  dare  to 
think  or  hope  it  has  made  you 
one  thousandth  part  as  happy  as 
it  has  made  me.  An  English 
poet  says : 

Love   can   but   last  with  us  here,  at 

this  height, 
For  a  day  and  a  night. 

43 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

But  for  me,  I  know  it  can  last 
until  the  final  day  of  life  and 
the  ''death-hour  rounding  it." 
But  for  you — ah,  God!  there  is 
the  fear  that  will  creep  in  and 
chill.  Am  I  to  lose  you  after  1 
have  won  you  ?  Is  the  old  agony 
to  be  lived  over  again  ?  Have  I 
climbed  thus  near  to  the  heaven 
of  my  dreams  only  to  see  the 
gates  shut  on  me  at  the  last? 
Will  you  not  teach  me  some 
way,  sweetheart,  that  1  may 
make  you  mine  forever?  For 
44 


OF    A    LIAR 

you  are  mine  now,  "sweet eyes, 
sweet  mouth,-  sweet  cheeks, 
sweet  throat,  sweet  hair — each 
singly  wooed  and  won."  Will 
the  day  dawn  in  which  I  shall 
know  that  they  are  mine  no 
more  ?  If  it  ever  does,  I  hope  to 
God  I  may  not  live  to  see  its  sun- 
set. Do  you  remember  what  I 
told  you  was  my  dream  last 
night — "how  mad  and  bad  and 
glad  it  was,  but  then,  how  it  was 
sweet?''  Dear  sweetheart,  I  am 
only  a  very  human  man,  desper- 
45 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

ately  in  love  with  you,  who 
does  not  hold  his  life  at  a  pin's 
fee  compared  with  your  happi- 
ness. You  know  better  than  I 
what  brings  you  happiness  or 
can  bring  it.  If  I  can  know 
surely  what  your  own  heart 
wishes,  then,  at  whatever  cost 
or  renunciation,  so  help  me  God 
I  will  try  to  bring  it  to  you, 
But  for  a  little  while,  sweetheart, 
at  least,  let  me  dream — let  me 
dream  that  you  are  away  with 
me,  'Most  in  the  night  and  the 
light  of  the  sea,"  drifting  toward 
46 


OF     A    LIAR 

that  magic  land  where  all  our 
hopes  and  dreams  come  true. 
And  as  Kipling  says : 

It's  God  knows  what  we  should  find,  dear 

lass, 
And  it's  God  knows  what  we  should  do. 

But  I  think  the  voyage  would 
be  the  sunniest  a  ship  ever  sailed, 
and  the  land  we  found  would  be 
fair. 

Oh,  what,  after  all,  is  life,  and 
how  should  we  use  it  ?  Is  not 
one  hour  of  love  worth  years  of 
the  dead,  death-pale  duty,  the 
dull,  passionless  existence  that 
47 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

SO  many  human  hearts  wear  out 
against  their  mortal  bans  ?  It  is 
not  every  heart  to  whom  is  given 
the  pov/er  of  supreme  love  and 
supreme  pain  and  supreme  joy. 
Shall  those  who  fmd  it  lose  it 
because — they  know  not  why? 
And  yet,  how  can  one  argue  of 
these  things  ?  They  cannot  be 
reasoned  out.  Love  is  like  re- 
ligion— a  thing  of  faith  only  and 
impulse.  And  so  all  my  argu- 
ment and  reasoning  are  set  at 
naught,  and  drowned  in  the 
48 


OF    A     LIAR 

memory  of  a  last  "  embrace  in 
which  two  white  arms  held  me 
fast."  Oh,  thank  God  for  mem- 
ory now.  I  used  to  hate  it,  and 
think  the  best  boon  time  could 
bring  would  be  forgetfulness. 
But  now — no,  a  thousand  times 
no! 

I  fear  you  will  think  this  an 
incoherent  letter.  I  am  writing 
only  because  my  heart  is  suffocat- 
ing with  its  passion.  Good-night. 
I  am  going  away  in  the  ship  of 
dreams.  Do  you  know  who  is 
49 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

going  with  me  ?  Listen  while  I 
whisper  down  through  your 
breast  into  your  heart.  One  is 
going  on  that  ship  who  will  put 
white  arms  around  my  throat 
and  say : 

Ask  me  no  more,  my  fate  and  thine  are 

sealed; 

I  strove  against  the  tide  and  all  in  vain. 

Let  the  great  river  take  me  to  tlie  main. 

No  more,    dear  love — for  at  a  touch   I 

yield — 

y4sk  me  no  more. 

Lawrence. 


50 


New  Yorkf  May  j,  i8pp. 

Madge: 

I  have  your  letter  and  I  do  not 
know  whether  you  mean  what 
you  say  in  it  or  not. 

You  know  I  love  you,  if  you 
know  or  believe  anything.  You 
love  me,  too,  very  dearly — you 
have  told  me  this,  and  God 
knows  you  have  proved  it.  But 
you  appear  to  have  no  faith  in 
51 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

me.  I  do  not  understand  how 
love  and  fiiith  can  be  separated. 
If  I  have  tried  to  make  you  un- 
derstand anything,  it  has  been 
that  I  am  happiest  when  with 
you,  that  the  sight  of  your  face 
is  my  heaven — and  yet  you  prac- 
tically charge  me  in  your  letter 
with  neglect. 

I  do  not  think  you  are  too  ex- 
acting. Love  is  always  exact- 
ing, but  it  is  generous  and  con- 
siderate and  forgiving,  too.  A 
heart  that  loves — with  faith — 
52 


OF     A     LIAR 

would  know  and  tell  itself:  "  He 
is  not  here — I  am  not  in  his 
arms,  through  no  lack  of  long- 
ing on  his  part,  but  because  he  is 
held  away  from  me  by  a  force  he 
cannot  guide.  And  instead  of 
reproaching  him,  my  love  for 
him  grows  deeper  and  stronger 
every  hour." 

It  seems  to  me  this  is  the  way 
a  loving  heart  would  speak,  but 
perhaps  I  do  not  know.  Oh, 
please  don't  quarrel  with  me,  but 
love  me  and  believe  in  me,  and 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

understand  that  you  are  the  one 
thing  on  earth  that  I  love  with 
all  my  heart  and  soul. 

Lawrence. 


VI 

New  York,  September  /o,  i8pp. 

Madge: 

Here  are  the  answers  to  the 
questions  you  ask,  and  which  I 
am  asked  to  give  you  before  the 
past  is  hermetically  sealed. 

Yes,  I  was  unfaithful  to  you  at 
Narragansett.  I  remember,  when 
I  bade  you  good-bye  in  July,  that 
you  said  you  had  a  premonition 
that  it  was  forever  ;  but  I  laughed 

55 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

at  the  idea.  I  remember  that  I 
did  avoid  the  answer  to  your 
questions,  in  my  letters — I 
thought  I  would  tell  you  all  about 
it  when  I  saw  you,  and  I  went 
to  Newport  intending  and  ex- 
pecting to  do  so.  But  I  tell  you 
now  that  I  do  not  recollect  any 
questions  or  allusions  to  the  mat- 
ter made  by  you  while  I  was 
there.  Nor  do  I  remember,  save 
so  vaguely  that  I  cannot  venture 
to  recall  it  here,  what,  "when  I 
bade  you  good-bye,  I  made  you 
56 


OF     A    LIAR 

swear  to."  I  received  the  letter 
saying  you  would  return  on  a  cer- 
tain day.  My  mail  was  delayed 
— I  was  nervous.  Newport  had 
made  me  think  that  you  would 
not  really  care  much  whether 
I  came  or  not,  and  I  dreaded  the 
heartache  and  misery  of  explana- 
tions. Not  brave,  perhaps,  but 
God's  truth. 

Yes,  I  am  to  marry  a  very  dear 
and  lovely  girl,  and  I  love  her. 
She  is  rich,  so  I  have  heard  since 
my  engagement,    but    I    knew 

57 


THE    LOVE     LETTERS 

nothing  of  this  when  I  asked  her 
to  marry  me.  I  do  not  suppose 
the  world  at  large  will  believe 
this,  but  I  do  not  care  what  the 
world  believes.  I  want  to  try 
and  be  a  better  man,  to  catch 
some  years  of  peace  and  content- 
ment, and  to  be,  as  nearly  as  I 
can,  worthy  of  her. 

I  shall  be  glad  to  come  to  see 
you  sometimes  if  you  will  let 
me. 

In  all  the  sorrow  and  all  the 
happiness  the  past  has  held  for 
58 


OF     A    LIAR 


me,  I  have  never  harbored  a  bit- 
ter thought  or  spoken  a  bitter 
word  of  you. 

Lawrence. 


VII 

New  York,  September,  /8pp. 

Madge: 

I  have  read  carefully  what  you 
sent  me,  a  copy  of  ali  my  letters^ 
as  you  asked  me  to  do. 

I  did  not  lie  to  you  then.  I 
believed  it  to  be  true,  nor  did  1 
believe  any  change  would  come. 
I  do  not  lie  to  you  now.  She  is 
a  dear  and  lovely  girl,  and  she  is 
rich.  She  has  said  she  would 
61 


THE    LOVE     LETTERS 

marry  me,  and  I  want  to  try  to 
be  worthy  of  her. 

I  have  sufifered.  My  heart  has 
been  wrung — beyond  what  any 
words  of  mine  can  tell  you — at 
causing  you  pain.  God  knows 
this  is  true. 

She  fixed  the  date  for  the  20th 
of  October,  after  she  left  New 
York.  My  foreknowledge  was 
the  understanding  only  that  the 
engagement  was  not  to  be  a  long 
one.  She  has  told  her  family 
and  friends,  as  I  have  mine. 
62 


OF     A     LIAR 

Everybody  who  knows  her  or 
me  practically  knows  the  date 
that  has  been  set.  She  has  asked 
all  her  bridesmaids,  and  the  cos- 
tumes have  been  ordered  for  that 
time. 

How  can  I  change  the  date  ? 
Yes,  1  know  it  was  the  20th  of 
last  October  that  I  told  you  1 
loved  you.  I  beg  of  you,  for 
the  sake  of  one  who,  I  think, 
never  gave  anyone  pain  know- 
ingly in  her  life,  to  withdraw 
your  request,  for  the  sake  of  my 
63 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

sister,  whom  you  know  and  es- 
teem, for  the  sake  of  my  dead 
mother,  whom  you  used  to  love. 

I  know  there  is  no  service  that 
you  would  ever  accept  from  me 
now,  if  I  could  render  it,  but  one 
who  has  gone  down  on  his 
knees  and  asked  God's  forgive- 
ness in  agony  and  tears  makes 
this  appeal  to  you.  I  ask  you  to 
try  and  think  more  gently  of  me. 

I  am  going  to  try  with  all  my 
endeavor  to  be  a  better  man,  to 
act  as  one  who  is  trying  his  best 
64 


OF     A     LIAR 

hereafter  to  do  right.  Will  you 
not  help  me  ?  I  ask  you,  I  appeal 
to  you,  if  not  for  my  sake,  for 
the  sake  of  a  girl  who  should  not 
suffer  for  my  faults,  not  to  ask 
this  of  me. 

Just  forget  your  own  suffering, 
your  own  humiliation.  And  re- 
member, her  wealth  can  advance 
me  politically.  My  ambition  is 
dearer  to  me  than  any  woman. 
Grant  my  request,  and  send  me 
a  telegram  saying,  *'I  do  !" 

And  in  this  last  letter,  and  to 
65 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

my  dying  day,  I  ask  God's  mercy 
and  tenderness  and  protection 
for  you. 

Lawrence  Goddard. 


VIII 

IVasbingtoJi,  D.  C, 

September  /8,  /8pp. 

Lawrence  Goddard,  Esq.  : 

Your  letter  of  September  i6th 
to  poor  misguided  Madge  came  to 
me  by  mistake.  It  requires  much 
talent  and  much  more  feeling  to 
break  off  an  attachment  amiably 
than  to  begin  it.  Hence  I  re- 
turn to  you  the  letter  meant  for 
her,  so  you  can  despatch  itforth- 
67 


THE    LOVE    LETTERS 

with.  Such  ingenuity  of  ex- 
pression should  not  be  relegated 
to  the  waste  paper  basket.  As 
for  myself,  I  find,  after  careful 
investigation,  that  my  bank  ac- 
count is  not  sufficiently  large  to 
maintain  myself  and  your  politi- 
cal ambitions.  So  we  will  "call 
it  off."     Good-bye. 

Kitty  Sherman. 


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